rner by Miss Haws's young ladies, dancing
virginally by themselves, they squeezed each others' hands convulsively
when they passed in "ladies' chain," in token of the great fact that he
was looking on. When, after the dance, they walked up and down in the
hall, arm in arm, they trod upon each other's slippers as sympathetic
perception of the intensity of his presence on the stairs. What an
evening! How crowded full of emotions! Yet the outward appearance was
simply that of three shy, awkward girls in white muslin, keeping close
together, and as far as possible from a handsome, gay-hearted,
fast-talking youth who never once noticed them. O the imaginative,
happy, shy fancies of foolish school-girls! It is a question whether the
real love which comes later ever yields that wild, fairy-like romance
which these early attachments exhale; the very element of reality
weights it down, and makes it less heavenly fair.

At the end of the summer Rast had acquired a deep experience in life (so
he thought), a downy little golden mustache, and a better opinion of
himself than ever. The world is very kind to a handsome boy of frank and
spirited bearing, one who looks as though he intended to mount and ride
to victory. The proud vigor of such a youth is pleasant to tired eyes;
he is so sure he will succeed! And most persons older, although knowing
the world better and not so sure, give him as he passes a smile and
friendly word, and wish him godspeed. It is not quite fair, perhaps, to
other youths of equal merit but another bearing, yet Nature orders it
so. The handsome, strong, confident boy who looks her in the face with
daring courage wins from her always a fine starting-place in the race of
life, which seems to advance him far beyond his companions. Seems; but
the end is far away.

East did not return to the island during the summer vacation; Dr. Gaston
wished him to continue his studies with a tutor, and as the little
college town was now radiant with a mild summer gayety, the young man
was willing to remain. He wrote to Anne frequently, giving abstracts of
his life, lists of little events like statistics in a report. He did
this regularly, and omitted nothing, for the letters were his
conscience. When they were once written and sent, however, off he went
to new pleasures. It must be added as well that he always sought the
post-office eagerly for Anne's replies, and placed them in his pocket
with satisfaction. They were sometimes